Hello London
by Chloe The Imaginative
Summary: (BBC Sherlock) Sherlock Love Story After leaving her drug-addicted boyfriend, Caroline moves back to London. In need of a job and somewhere to stay, Caroline contacts an old friend who asks for her help on a case in exchange for a job. But on this case, Caroline meets two men who change her life completely. Yeah, the summary isn't great but please read it anyway.


"You told me you stopped doing drugs!" I yell at Markus, my about to be ex-boyfriend.

"I don't see what the big problem is." Markus sighs.

"Don't see what the big problem is?! You lied to me! You told me you stopped but you didn't! You've been lying to me for months, Markus, Months!"

"This is the last time! I swear!" Markus pleads.  
"You expect me to believe you?" I scoff.

"I'm really going to try to stop this time!"

"No you're not! You're a drug addict! You can't stop!" I retort.

"I can and I will! I will stop!"

"You have no time for me anymore! It's like I don't mean anything to you!"

"Please Caroline!" Markus steps towards me but I back away. "I love you!"

"You say that but you won't remember tomorrow! And I don't love you anymore!" I scream.

"W-what?" Markus whispers.

"I don't love you anymore." Tears start to fill my eyes. "I'm sorry Markus, but we're done. It's over. Just stop the drugs, go and find a nice girl and settle down. But that girl isn't going to be me. I'm not sticking around to watch you ruin your life." And with that I grab my two bags and storm out the door, slamming it behind me.

* * *

I arrive at the train station and get a one way ticket to London. I want a new start so I'm moving from Scotland to London. Markus and I had been living together for six months in Scotland. But I'm not Scottish. I'm English. Anyway, I had been dating Markus for a year and a half. I knew he did drugs in the past. But he said that he stopped about four months after we started dating. It was only when I caught him earlier this evening that I realised he'd been lying. I get on the train and start listening to my iPod, _Circle the Drain _by _Katy Perry_ starts playing. 'Oh how lovely!' I think. 'This song basically describes the state of my relationship with Markus.'

* * *

Many songs later, I finally arrive in London. I get off the train and hail the first passing cab I see.

"Where to?" The cab driver asks as I close the door.

"Um... The nearest hotel please." I respond.

"Okay." Then the cabbie drives off to the hotel. The cab arrives and I climb out of the cab. I hand the cabbie the money.

"Thanks." I say before turning and entering the hotel. I check my watch and discover that the time is 9pm. I walk up to the main desk.

"Hello." The receptionist greets. "What can I do for you?"

"Can I get a single bedroom for one night?" I ask. I only want to stay for one night, I'll find a friend to stay with tomorrow.

"Of course." The woman smiles. "Name?"

"Caroline Hill."

"Okay." The receptionist types on her computer and I pay her the money for the room.

"Right, Miss. Hill, your room is number 17." She turns around and retrieves the key for room 17. "And here's your key. Have a nice stay."

"Thanks." I smile and go to my room.

* * *

I drop my bags beside my bed then change into my pyjamas. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. But before I get into bed my BlackBerry starts ringing. 'That better not be Markus!' I check the caller ID and sure enough it's Markus. I ignore it and put my phone down. A few minutes later, I pick it up again to make a call. I put my phone to my ear and wait for the other person to pick up.

"Hello?" I hear the familiar voice of Greg Lestrade.

"Hi Greg."

"Caroline. It's nice to speak to you again. How are you?"

"Not so good. I just left Markus."

"Oh, why? I thought everything was good between you two."

"It was. Until I found out he'd been doing drugs for months when he'd told me he stopped."

"Blimey!" He exclaims.

"Yeah, I know."

"So I take it you're not in Scotland anymore?" He questions.

"No, I'm in London." I reply.

"When did you arrive?"

"I've just checked into a hotel." I inform him. "I have nowhere else to go."

"What about your family?"

"They left to go off to America. They really didn't like Markus."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Find a job and get a flat somewhere, when I can afford it."

"I could get you a job at Scotland yard." He offers.

"Really? That would help so much!"

"Meet me at Scotland Yard tomorrow at 2:15pm."

"I'll see you then." I reply then I hang up. I place my phone on the nightstand and climb into bed. I think about what I'm going to do tomorrow as I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up and glance at my watch on the nightstand. It's 1:30pm. Wow. I slept for ages. I get up and change into a beige, long-sleeved top, black skinny jeans and black boots. I quickly look in the mirror and decide to leave my brown hair down, it falls just below my shoulders. I put my grey coat on and put my phone in my pocket. I snatch my bags up off the ground and leave the room. I hand my key back to the receptionist and scramble outside. I hail a passing cab.

"Scotland Yard please." I tell the cabbie.

* * *

When I reach Scotland Yard, Lestrade is already waiting for me. I take my bags out of the cab and pay the cabbie.

"I thought you checked into a hotel." Lestrade says.

"Oh, hello to you too." I mumble. "And I did, but I could only afford one night."

"It's that bad?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, you can put your bags in my car." Lestrade says as he leads me to his car.

"Thank you so much." I tell him when we've loaded my bags into his car.

"No problem." Lestrade smiles.

"So, about this job..."

"If you help me on the case I have at the moment, I'll see what I can do."

"Deal." I agree.

* * *

Lestrade takes me through Scotland Yard and to his office. As soon as we enter, a woman appears in the doorway.

"Who's she? And what's she doing here?" She demands.

"Rude!" I comment.

"This is Caroline Hill and she's here because I asked her to be here." Lestrade informs the woman. Lestrade turns to me, "Caroline, this is Sergeant Sally Donovan." Sergeant Donovan glares at me. 'I think I'm going to call her 'Rudy'.' I put on a fake smile. 'Rudy' just rolls her eyes and walks out.

"Now, about the case. There have been three suicides, all done in the same way."

"Are you sure they're suicides?" I enquire.

"Yes, I'm sure. The pills the victims took are the same pill. They take them themselves."

* * *

A few hours later, I'm fully up to date on the case. I don't think they're suicides. Donovan knocks on the door and enters Lestrade's office.

"Sir, there's been another suicide." She tells Lestrade. I stand and put my coat on. Lestrade also stands and puts his coat on.

"Same as the others?" He demands.

"Method of suicide, yes. But there's a note this time." Donovan says. We hurry to the cars. I get in Lestrade's car with Lestrade, obviously, and Donovan. We leave for the crime scene.

"Some kids found the woman." Donovan informs us. "The name on her credit card is Jennifer Wilson."

* * *

We arrive at the crime scene. I quickly get out of the car, followed swiftly by Donovan and Lestrade. Lestrade turns to face Donovan and me.

"I'm going to get Sherlock. Caroline, I want you to stay here, by the police tape, with Sergeant Donovan until I get back" Lestrade orders.

"Fine" I huff. 'Great! I'm stuck here with 'Rudy'!' Lestrade leaves in a police car.

"Fantastic! He's gone to get the freak!" Donovan exclaims, annoyed.  
"The freak?" I question.

"Sherlock Holmes." She sighs as if it's obvious.

"Why do you call him a freak?" I ask.

"Because he is! Wait until you meet him." After that I ignore her. My phone rings and I take it out of my pocket. It's Markus again, I ignore the call and shove my phone back into my pocket. I can't help but feel a little bit guilty about how I ended it with him; the guy was almost crying. But I couldn't stay any longer. Sooner or later Lestrade comes back.

"Sherlock's on his way." He states. "Caroline, with me. Donovan, stay here." I gratefully follow Lestrade into the building.

"Who's this?" A man questions, pointing at me.

"Caroline Hill, she's here with my permission." Lestrade answers. "So leave her alone Anderson."

* * *

Lestrade leads me into a small room and he picks up a blue coverall and hands it to me.

"You'll need to wear this." Lestrade says as he puts on a blue coverall.

"Thanks." I take off my coat and put on the blue coverall Lestrade had handed to me.

"Freak's here. Bringing him in." Donovan's voice sounded from a radio. A few minutes later two men entered the room. One of them was tall with dark curly hair, he was quite handsome. The other was shorter with short hair that was going grey, he walked with a limp and had a crutch to aid him.

"You need to wear one of these." The tall man tells the shorter man, pointing to the blue coveralls.

"Who's this?" Lestrade asks, pointing to the shorter of the two.

"He's with me." The taller guy replies.

"But who is he?" Lestrade presses.

"I said he's with me."

"Aren't you gonna put one on?" The short man asks his friend, referring to the coveralls.

"And I could ask you the same about her." The tall guy points to me, ignoring his friend's question. Lestrade sighs.

"Caroline Hill this is Sherlock Holmes." Lestrade introduces.

"So he's the guy 'Rudy' says is a freak..." I think out loud.

"'Rudy'?" Lestrade queries.

"Oh, yeah, 'Rudy' is Sergeant Donovan. Because she's rude to me, I decided to call her 'Rudy'." I answer, earning an amused smile from Sherlock.

"Fair enough." Lestrade shrugs.

"John Watson." The short man named John introduces, holding his hand out to me.

"Hi." I smile and shake his hand.

"Welcome back to London." Sherlock says.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you lived in London most of your life but you moved to Scotland with your boyfriend. You lived with him for 6 months. Then you found out he lied about doing drugs so you left him yesterday. You don't have a job but Lestrade is going to offer you one if you help him on this case. You're currently not staying anywhere. But you'd think that someone would go to their family for help but no, yours moved to America a while ago. So instead, you're planning on finding a friend to stay with so you don't have to stay in a hotel. Did I miss anything?" I blink a few times in disbelief before answering.

"That's amazing. No, I think you covered everything." I reply. Sherlock looks at me for a few seconds before turning to Lestrade.

"So where are we?" He questions, switching his focus to the case.

"Upstairs." Lestrade replies.

* * *

The four of us exit the room and start to go up the stairs.

"I can give you two minutes." Lestrade informs Sherlock.

"May need longer." Sherlock answers.

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her."

"Poor kids." I mumble. We enter the room with Jennifer Wilson's body in it.

"Oh, of all the colours she could wear, and she picks pink! Worst colour ever." I say. Lestrade chuckles.

"Same old Caroline."

"Is this the first dead body you've seen?" John whispers to me.

"Sadly, no. Not a very happy memory, I'd rather not dwell on it." I reply. John nods in understanding. Sherlock stares at the body for a while before turning his head towards Lestrade.

"Shut up." He says.

"I didn't say anyth-"

"You were thinking; it's annoying." Sherlock interrupts Lestrade. Sherlock walks up to the body and starts examining it. After a short while Sherlock smirks and stands up.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asks hopefully.

"Not much." Sherlock states.

"She's German." A voice sounds from the doorway. I turn around to see Anderson leaning against the door frame. "'Rache' German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something-"

"Yes, thank you for your input." Sherlock cuts him off as he walks over to the door and closes it in Anderson's face.

"So she's German." Lestrade concludes.

"Course she's not. She's from out of town though." Sherlock corrects, staring at his phone. "Intended to stay in London for one night, before returning home to Cardiff. So far, so obvious."

"Sorry obvious?" John queries.

"What about the message though?" Lestrade wonders.

"Doctor Watson what do you think?"

"Of the message?"

"Of the body. You're a medical man."

"Oh no, we have a whole team right outside." Lestrade interjects.

"They won't work with me."

"I'm breaking every rule letting _you_ in here."

"Yes, because you need me."

"Yes I do. God help me."

"Doctor Watson?" John looks at Sherlock and then at Lestrade.

"Oh do as he says, help yourself." Lestrade walks out of the room. "Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes."

* * *

Sherlock and John walk over to the body and crouch down either side of it.

"Well?"

"What am I doing here?" John looks at Sherlock waiting for an answer.

"Helping me make a point." Sherlock whispers.

"I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent."

"Yeah well, this is more fun."

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead." John points to the body.

"Perfectly sound analysis but I was hoping you'd go deeper." Sherlock rolls his eyes. Lestrade wanders back into the room and crosses his arms. John begins to examine the body.

"Yep. Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, chocked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her, could've been a seizure, possibly drugs." John concludes.

"You know what it was, you've read the papers."

"Well she's one of the suicides. The fourth?"

"Sherlock," Lestrade speaks, "two minutes I said, I need anything you've got."

"Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes; I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her suitcase."

"Suitcase?"

"Suitcase, yes. She's been married for at least 10 years. But not happily, she's had a string of lovers. None of them knew she was married."

"Oh for God's sake, if you're just making this up-"

"Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. Rest of her jewellery's been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside is shinier than the outside – that means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work; look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what, or rather, who does she remove her rings for. Clearly not one lover; she'd never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Simple."

"That's brilliant." John praises. "Sorry."

"Cardiff?" Lestrade enquires.

"It's obvious isn't it?"

"It's not obvious to me." John says.

"Dear God, what is it like inside your funny little brains, it must be so boring." Sherlock looks around at us. "Her coat, it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but its dry and unused, not just wind, strong wind. – Too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance. But she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat sill hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" Sherlock takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Cardiff." I speak up, everyone looks at me.

"That's right." Sherlock confirms and holds his phone up for Lestrade to see the weather forecast for Cardiff.

"That's fantastic!" John states.

"D'you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock asks quietly.

"Sorry, I'll shut up."

"No, it's... fine."

"Why d'you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade queries.

"Yes, where is it?" Sherlock looks around the room for any sign of the suitcase. "She must have had a phone or an organiser. Find out who Rachel is."

"She was writing Rachel?" Lestrade raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"No, she was leaving an angry note in German! Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. Question is: why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"

"How do you know she had a suitcase?"

"Back of the right leg," Sherlock points to the woman's legs, "tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash back in any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes conscious, could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was only staying one night. Now, where is it? What have you done with it?" Sherlock squats next to Jennifer Wilson's body to examine her legs.

"There wasn't a case." Lestrade shrugs. Sherlock stops examining the body and turns to look up at Lestrade.

"Say that again." Sherlock requests.

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." Lestrade says, shrugging again. Sherlock immediately straightens up and heads out of the room.

"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" Sherlock yells as he descends down the stairs.

"Sherlock! There was no case!" Lestrade calls out as he walks out of the room followed by John and me.

"They take the poison themselves. They chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them." Sherlock responds.

"Right, yeah, thanks. And?!" Lestrade questions.

"It's murder. All of them. I don't know how, but they're not suicides. They're killings. – Serial killings. We've got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There's always something to look forward to."

"Why are you saying that?" Lestrade demands.

"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case."

"Maybe the killer drove her here and forgot her case was in the car." I suggest.

"Good, someone else is smart enough to understand." Sherlock says.

"She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there." John speaks up.

"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour co-ordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking-" Sherlock abruptly stops talking as he realises something. "Oh! Oh!" He clasps his hands together in delight.

"Sherlock?" John calls down to him.

"What is it? What?" Lestrade leans over the stair banister.

"Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake." Sherlock answers.

"We can't just wait!" Lestrade exclaims.

"Oh, we're done waiting! Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff; find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock vanishes from the bottom of the stairs.

"Of course, yeah. But what mistake?" Lestrade shouts. Sherlock appears at the foot of the staircase.

"PINK!" Then he speeds off again, out of sight. Everyone except Lestrade, John and me go back into the room with Jennifer Wilson's body.

"I can't believe Sherlock complimented you." Lestrade comments.

"What?" I turn to him, confused.

"Earlier, he said you were smart." John explains.

"He did, didn't he..." I mumble as Lestrade goes back into the previous room.

"I should probably go after Sherlock." John states.

"Do you mind if I tag along? I don't have anything else to do. And I'm not too keen on staying here staring at a dead woman."

"Er, no I don't mind." John says and we begin to walk down the stairs.


End file.
